I Won't Be Your Second Choice - Good, Because You're Not
by stydiamartinski
Summary: Malia finds out about Stiles love for Lydia and breaks up with him instantly, fearing she's just a second choice. Stiles, however, wants to prove her otherwise.


She was on the verge of falling asleep. Malia was ready to fade into a blissful sleep, nightmares bound to ensue, until she hears her name being called out by her math teacher.

"Malia," she repeats impatiently, shooting her a stern look.

"Yes?" She murmurs softly, half awake, half asleep. She could hear distant chuckles in the classroom, scowls and opts to ignore them.

"How about you answer number 17 on the board for us? Give it a shot." She smiles sweetly.

Malia glances at the board uneasily, then to Stiles. He shoots her an over enthusiastic grin, and a thumbs up. Mustering some courage, she hesitantly nods. "Not like you're gonna give me a choice, so I might as well do it," she sighs out.

She rises out of her seat, and races up to the board, staring dumbfounded at the question. Dozens of hushed conversations begin at the back of the room, as Malia and three other students stand at the board, scribbling down answers. She looks over her shoulder, hoping to get some encouragement from Stiles, but saw something unexpected. There sat Stiles, next to Lydia. He smiles at her like she was the only person in the world. His eyes glint, and he looked ... happy. Happier than Malia had ever seen him.

An ugly, unwanted feeling fills her chest, and she immediately feels disgusted.

All of a sudden, memories from her first few encounters with the pack spark in her head. A day when Scott and Stiles were helping Malia with her werecoyote abilities, and Scott mentioned Lydia, shooting a suggestive look at Stiles way. He blushed. Another memory, of Kira, Scott, Stiles and eating their lunches in the cafeteria. Lydia strutted in, sliding next to Stiles, and Malia vividly remembered his heart skipping a beat.

Suddenly, Malia feels sick.

She quickly writes the answer down with a piece of chalk, sets it back on the board, and trudges toward her seat.

"Now, was that so hard?" Stiles teasing voice rings in her ear.

Malia didn't answer. Instead, she opens up her textbook, and starts doing some homework while they wait for everyone else to finish.

"Malia? Earth to Malia?" He taps her on the shoulder with his index finger, and she instinctively pulls herself away from his reach with a huff.

"MALIA."

"Mr. Stilinski, please wait until the end of class to talk about what I hope is math to your girlfriend," the teacher cuts in, sending him a menacing look.

"Please don't call me his girlfriend," Malia grumbles, not bothering hiding her scowl.

The teacher looks perplexed, but she nods anyway. "As you wish, Miss Tate. Speaking of you, you answered the question correctly. Congrats - you really are improving."

Malia forces a smile to etch onto her lips. Throughout the entire class, she forces the thought of Stiles now obvious crush on Lydia away. When the bell rings, she makes a bee line for the door, hoping to get out before Stiles could corner her. Even though he was her ride, she wants to walk more than ever now.

She makes it to her locker, shoved a couple textbooks and notebooks into her bag, and slipped out of the school without seeing or hearing Stiles or Lydia.

But she wasn't that lucky.

"Malia! Hey! Wait!"

She speeds up when Stiles voice filled her ears, desperate to be out of his sight, but he manages to catch her arm, tugging hard. "What did I do? Please, tell me, Malia," he pleads.

She tries resisting, tempted to rip his arm off if he spent another second touching her, but figures now was better to get it out in the open. "You lied to me," she spits out, turning around, glaring at him. The parking lot was empty, and she was glad for that. The entire school seemed to have left. No one needed to see the scene that was about to occur. "You've been lying to me since the start," she hisses. She could feel tears filling her eyes but she blinks them away - she refuses to be weak, especially in front of him.

Stiles face falls. "I thought - I thought you were over that. You know how sorry I am for lying to you about Peter, and you know I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you," he spoke earnestly.

Malia shakes her head. "No - not about that. But I'm still pissed at you for that. You lied about ... about **loving** me. I know, Stiles. I know."

Stiles brows scrunch, a look of confusion splaying on his features. "What - what the hell are you talking about? Malia, I love only you and you know that." His voice falters, thick with sincerity. "I don't - I don't know what you're getting at, but I would never lie about loving you."

"You - you -" She has difficulty producing the words, the words struggling to get out. She steals a second to collect herself, deeply breathing in to stay calm and not get angry. "You love her." She feels sick even thinking about Lydia now, who was probably plotting their breakup, counting down the minutes until she could call Stiles hers. _Fuck_ Lydia. _Fuck_ Stiles. _Fuck_ them both.

"What - " A pause, seriousness dawning on his face. "Oh. Did Scott tell you?" He sounds panicked, a finger outstretched to scratch his neck.

Malia could feel a dark laugh rising in her throat, hands going to rub her eyes. "Wooooow. You aren't even denying it. What kind of person do you think you are? Lying to me about loving someone else? Thinking you'll get to be with me while you're still in love with that **bitch?"**

"Lydia's not a bitch, Malia," he snaps defensively, arms crossed over his chest.

"That's all you're concerned about? I see where your priorities lie. We're done, Stiles. I can't believe I ever wasted a second over you." She storms off.

Stiles let out a deep sigh, chasing after her. "MALIA. Wait! You don't know the whole story! Come back," he urges haughtily.

She starts to run, as fast as she could, fingers wrapped tight around her backpack's strap. Kira's house was a few blocks away from here, and she knew that neither her father nor Kira would mind if she crashed there. She didn't want to think of him. Not right now, at least. Photos of him and her were hung in her room, and she couldn't bear to see them. Photos of Lydia, too, were in her room, and she didn't want to see her face either.

She glances over her shoulder, checking for Stiles, but he was gone. A breath of relief, and as she gazes forward, she saw Kira's house. She marches to the front doorstep, pressing the doorbell.

The door swings open in a matter of seconds, and Kira, in short shorts, wearing a batman shirt with her hair tied in a messy bun, greets her, swallowing heavily. "Not my finest hour," she admits, letting out a slight laugh. When Malia remains quiet, she looks concerned. "You okay?"

She didn't bother hiding it. "No," she whispers, rushing into Kira's arms.

Kira welcomes her into a warm embrace, petting Malia's hair, wrapping her arms around her body. "Shh, I'm here for you, I'm here."

* * *

Kira had insisted that Malia spilled the whole story, ordering pizza and giving Malia a change of pajamas to slip into. Now there the duo sat, Kira perched on her bed, and Malia sitting cross legged on the carpet-covered floor, leaning against her counter.

"And you're sure he loves her?" Kira asks, tucking her feet underneath her butt as she takes a bite of her pizza. "Maybe it's because they're so close. They have been through alot together, more than you and Stiles. It could be a tight bond. He loves her, sure, but maybe it's just a platonic love. Like I love you."

"I doubt it," she grunts, scowling. "You love me in a platonic way, but you'd fuck me right? Because I'd totally fuck you if I wasn't with Stiles."

"In a heartbeat," Kira assures her, grinning broadly. "If I wasn't dating Scott, I would definitely be with you. When we break up with them, we're totally gonna be a thing, right?"

"Of course," Malia says, resisting the urge to giggle. "Well, I did sort of end things with Stiles. I can't be with someone who doesn't fully love me, you know? I ... I deserve better. I can't believe I said that, but I know it's true. Does ... does Lydia like him back?" She inquires in a tentative voice, fearing the answer.

Kira shrugs, before pulling her phone out from underneath her bed. "Scott will tell me."

"Will he tell you after he knows I'm asking?"

She flashes Malia a suggestive smile, typing quickly at her phone. "He won't know. Alright, how does this sound: H _ey, babe! Did you hear about Stiles and Malia's fight? I talked to Malia. She's pretty bummed. She thinks Stiles and Lydia are in love. Is that true? Not surprised about Stiles, but I am about Lydia._ I put some emoji's, but those are irrelevant."

Malia wholeheartedly smiles, feeling extremely grateful toward her best friend. God, she loved her. "Sounds great," she says.

She hits send with her thumb, anxiously waiting for a reply. "What would you do if it was true? That Lydia loved Stiles? You don't have to answer," she adds hastily.

"I'm not sure. I wouldn't want to continue being friends with her. That'd be a shitty thing for a friend to do. What friend prioritizes a stupid boy over their actual friend? A bad one, and I don't need people like her in my life," she confesses with certainty.

Beep. Kira picks up her phone, and starts to read the reply aloud. " _Hey cutie_ ," she reads, cheeks flushing a little at the text. " _Stiles is actually at my place right now. I know about it. It kind of sucks, doesn't it? Lydia ... I don't know. Stiles used to have this_ _ **HUGE**_ _crush on her, but he sort of downplayed it. Especially after he met Malia. Lydia didn't even know who he was until the supernatural brought them together. There was one thing before we knew you or Malia, though. Stiles was having a panic attack, and Lydia kissed him. It was supposed to make it stop, but if you ask me, she probably wanted to kiss him. They never really talked about it. I don't entirely think Lydia is over him. She's really jealous around Malia and Stiles, I can tell.I was sure they were gonna get together, but then he met Malia, and fell in love with her. He loves her more than anything. Not more than me, I hope._ Then he put a smile emoji."

Malia felt like blushing. He loves her more than anything. More than Lydia? "Ask him if he still loves her," she requests in a monotone voice, hiding as much emotion as possible.

Kira types away, reading her reply out loud, asking for approval. " _Wow. You know if he still loves her? That would break Malia if she knew he still did. Then I'd break him for breaking her. And I'd break Lydia too_."

Malia fought a smile at that. Kira was so protective; that's what she loved most. She nods, fiddling with the material of the sweatpants she borrowed. "Lydia is **actually** jealous of me. Wow. Who in their right mind would be jealous of me, dumbass Malia Tate? I'm failing school. I'm socially inept. Everyone thinks I'm stupid. Who would want that?"

"First of all," Kira begins in a gentle voice, "you're not stupid. You're the smartest person I know, smarter than supposed "genius" Lydia Martin, okay? Grades don't define you. You're more than a mark, a percentage. Secondly, that's great. She's jealous because she knows she'll never have what you have. She'll never be able to make Stiles as happy as you do. You know that, right?"

She gives a sheepish shrug. "I guess. It is ironic," she admits. "That makes me feel a little better."

Kira grins in response. "Good. You deserve the world, you know that?"

"Thank you," Malia mumbles, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. She felt so appreciative toward Kira, it was slightly ridiculous.

Beep. Kira lifts her phone into her hand, opening up his text excitedly and with shaky fingers. " _No. Stiles is over Lydia for sure. He loves Malia and only her. You breaking them for your friend? You're a great friend, Kira. And a great girlfriend. Wanna meet up later tonight? Swing by my place if you can! We can work something out to get them back together. It's been two hours since they broke up, and I'm sadder than they are!_ " A beat. Kira looks up at Malia, and smiles at her. "See this? He only loves **you.** Now can you guys please get back together? Scott is tearing up inside!"

Malia couldn't help it. She grins widely, and rifles through her backpack before finding her phone. "I'll text him. When you meet up with Scott, I'll meet up with him. We'll talk. And I'll back here in an hour or two, and spill all the details," she promises.

"Good!" Kira practically squeals, sliding her hand on top of Malia's before giving it a squeeze. "Get this sorted. And talk to Lydia too. Don't pretend like you're okay with this when I know you aren't. If you don't talk to her, I will," she warns threateningly.

The coyote rolls her eyes, shaking her head in agreement. "I will, I swear! But I need to see him first."

She opens up her Messages app, and composes a text. " _Hey. Can we talk? I want to give you a chance to explain yourself. If you'll take it. Text me back if we can, and we'll meet up at your place._ How's that sound?"

"It's good."

She clicks send, butterflies fluttering in the confines of her chest. She feels nervous, but excited, and it's the perfect combination. Even if it'd only been two hours, they'd been a pretty sad few hours without him. She wants to see him explain. She wants to give him a chance.

Beep.

"Who's phone was that?"

"Yours," Kira says, looking somewhat disappointed that Scott didn't text her back.

She clears her throat, preparing to read the message to Kira. " _Hey. Of course I'll take it. Come by in 20 minutes? I have a lot to say. I love you. You_ know _I do_. Gah, this boy is going to kill me," she insists, but she's beaming brightly, cheeks a bright red.

"Then you'll have died a great death! He cares about you. Please tell me you'll get back with him. I know you care about him too!" Kira states, leaning over to poke Malia's arm.

Still, something nagged her in the pits of her mind that she needs to get off her chest. "What if Scott was wrong?" Malia asks, voice filled with doubt. "What if he still is in love with Lydia? Then what do I do?"

Kira looks annoyed, scoffing. "Who's he with? You or Lydia, hmm?"

Malia remains silent, unable to produce an answer. " ... Me," she mumbles.

"Exactly," the kitsune says. "He's with you, not Lydia. If he loved her, he would be with her, especially since she returned the feelings. Say he still loves her. He's still with you. He has and never will act on those feelings, so it doesn't matter."

She opens her mouth to answer, but she can't think of anything. "Fine," she reluctantly says, before pulling out her phone. "Should I text him now? Should I go over now?"

"Yes!" Kira persists, voice heavy and loud. "I'll just text Scott to come to my place. Get him out of your hair. _Swing by my place now! My bed's waiting for you. ;) xoxoxo_."

She flashes a thumbs up, shooting her a thin lipped smile. "My bed's waiting for you? Damn, Kira - you must be wild in bed." She turns her phone on, and composes another text. " _I'll be over in 5_." She presses send before getting a nod of approval.

"No I love you? No I miss you?"

Malia resists the urge to scowl, only shaking her head. "You know I'm not into the lovey dovey kind of crap. I would never text someone if I was mad at him. We're not even back together yet," she adds. "I should get going. I'll be back by -" A glance at the clock, " - 8 PM, maybe? Then I'll spill."

"You're seeing him in pajamas?"

Malia makes a fist, and gently punches Kira's sides. "Shut up. I need to go. Wish me good luck!"

* * *

In about seven minutes, Malia was standing on Stiles Stilinski's front doorstep, heart wildly beating. Raising a shaky palm, she forms a fist and raps on the door three times. "Stiles?" She croaks.

No answer.

She raps again, harder than before. "STILES," she practically shouts, not trying to hide the annoyance in her tone. She can hear footsteps from beyond the door, and it swings open. She's greeted by Stiles, his hair messy, a plaid shirt covering his upper body and briefs covering his lower half.

"Hey, Malia," he breathed out, running a hand through his hair nervously. She could hear his heart rapidly beating, too, but didn't bring it up.

"Hey," she greets, fighting hard to keep her voice monotonous and her face blank. She couldn't help the speed of her heartbeat though - it quickened the moment she saw him.

"Er, come in!" He insists, ushering her into the house. "Come in, come in, come in," he repeats, gesturing the hall. He guides her up to his room, patting a spot on her bed for her to sit.

She slides into the spot, anxiously biting down on her lip. She's nervous, fidgeting with her hands, not wanting to meet his eye, fearful for what was about to occur.

He sits next to her, playing with his hands in his lap. "So - you wanted to talk?" His voice cracks.

She nods. "I did. I still do, I mean," she stammers, shaking her head. "I'm just nervous, s'all. I - I, I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. I should've listened to you. Jumping to conclusions like that was a bad idea, and I see that now. I'm ready to hear your side of the story," Malia says calmly, mustering the courage to look him in the eye.

Stiles looks relieved, letting out a big air of breath. "I get it. If I found out you were in love with one of my best friends and kissed them, I'd be too angry to listen to you."

"In _love?_ " She wants to get up and leave, but she forces her feet to stay planted on the floor, and forces herself to listen to him. "Thought you wanted my **forgiveness.** You don't exactly get that by telling me how you're in _love_ with my friend."

"I … I _used_ to. But then I met you," he stammers, gently locking their fingers together. "And I … I never felt the same about Lydia. I **promise.** "

Malia purses her lips, judging the look he gave her. He seems sincere and genuine, but even if that were true, what about Lydia? Would she be able to continue her friendship, knowing the banshee harbored feelings for _**her**_ boyfriend? "What about Lydia? What am I supposed to do about that? She **loves** you. Not platonically. But ... " Her brain searches for the opposite of platonic. "But _kiss-ally_ _._ "

Stiles mouth twists into a smile, a slight chuckle escaping him.

She hits his side, brows furrowing. "What's so funny?" She frowns, feeling left out.

"Nothing," he promises, shaking his head. "It's just, you're cute. You know that?"

Malia didn't fight the grin that spreads across her mouth, opening her mouth to speak. "That's not why I'm here, Stiles! My friend - the girl I _thought_ was my friend -," she corrects, "loves you! What the hell do I do?" She cries, face in her hands.

"It'll be okay," Stiles soothes, a hand going to rub her back gently. "I promise. I can talk to Lydia, if you want?"

Malia pulls herself away from his grasp, shooting him a crazed look. "Are you **high** Stiles? No. I'm not risking her admitting your feelings and you realizing you love her more than you'll **ever** love me. I … I'd miss you too much." She was on the verge of using the 'L' word, but was able to refrain herself.

Stiles toothily grins, before leaning over to press his lips against hers. The two welcome each other into a warm embrace, Malia enthusiastically kissing him back, allowing her fingers to tangle in his hair. They're lost in each other for a few, long moments, until Malia breaks the kiss.

"What would _you_ do?" She asks, breath against his mouth. She gazes at his pink, full lips and wants to kiss him again, but refrains.

He thinks long and hard. "I'd talk to my friend. Be straightforward. No point dancing around it, right? Especially if the person I was dating was as incredible as you."

Malia grins at him, mouth twitching for a long beat. "We're back together, then?"

"If you want to be," he replies, making it seem like it was a simple question, with a simple answer.

It took her about three seconds to answer. "I'd be with you in a million lifetimes, through any weather, _anywhere,_ " she says breathlessly, before capturing his mouth into a fleeting kiss.

He kisses back eagerly, a hand cupping her cheek. "It's crazy you'd think I'd love _her._ "

She appreciates that he doesn't say her name. She nods, biting down on her lip.

"Promise me I have nothing to worry about, Stilinski?" Malia asks, raising her pinky out. There's absolute seriousness on her face and in her voice, but she still smiles.

He grins, wrapping his pinky around her. "I promise, Tate. Those were the longest three hours without you, I swear. Now _you_ have to promise to never leave me behind like that"

She squeezes his pinky with hers. "I told you - I'd never leave you behind."


End file.
